no need to recount history,
know precisely who I am and where I’ve erred.
skimming through Dostoevsky, lying still out in the sun,
blazing to Young Dolph, fresh-cut grass grazing my naked elbows.
degenerate, dissident, long-lost descendant of Ramses II, though far removed from the glittering cities of ancient Egypt.
no need to replay your memories, know exactly where I’ve been and where I stand,
no past indiscretion shames me, no threat of harm from any man phases me,
no corporate shackles can tame me.
my voice is strong and clear like the sound of waves crashing into the shore,
I am a child of the summer, raised in the wilderness.
Je me suis perdu une fois,